


Ours for One Night

by almaasi



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Bottom Elim Garak, Cloaca, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Talk, Domesticity, Explicit Consent, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fingering, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gentle Sex, Hair Brushing, Illustrated, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Love, One Shot, Relationship Reveal, Romance, Romantic Roleplay, Schmoop, Sexual Roleplay, Sharing a Bed, Smut, Talking During Sex, Top Julian Bashir, needy sex, set during season 3 probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:14:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27535087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almaasi/pseuds/almaasi
Summary: Only one bed. One night in a couple’s house. One offhand joke about being together. One silly roleplay between the sheets. Maybe one playful little kiss... And the sex... Oh, just once...
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 52
Kudos: 231





	Ours for One Night

**Author's Note:**

> Have I written all of these exact tropes multiple times for multiple pairings? Oh yeah. Have I written the whole “you’re pretending to be in a relationship with me but I’m not really pretending, but I’m pretending that I’m pretending, and need to keep checking if you’re pretending in case something changed” thing before for Garashir? Uh-huh. Did I write it again just because it’s one of my favourite things to write? Yup. And I had fun doing so. (The other Garashir one is **[Exactly What It Looks Like](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21611311)**.)
> 
> Warning for secondhand embarrassment triggers. Specifics: (spoilers!) Sisko and Dax overhearing sex; less-than-ideal post-coital cleanup (nothing gross, just awkward); Julian being a doof in general.
> 
> Beta’d by [anupalya](https://anupalya.tumblr.com/). ♥

“Um. I don’t know how to tell you all this, but... there’s only one bed.”

Sisko and Dax convened in the barely-lit hallway junction, eyes on Julian. Julian waited there anxiously, holding his own hands over his stomach.

“I mean, I _looked_ ,” Julian added, glancing towards Commander Sisko, “but the couple who lent us their house are obviously still... _close_ to each other, even in their old age.”

“Their kids had their own rooms, Julian, don’t worry about it.” Dax’s grin caught the light of the fading sun from the nearest open shutter. “But if I’m going to be fighting Garak for the nicest bed, someone’s giving him a pat-down first.” She looked to Sisko, and smirked. “Never trust _any_ one with hidden pockets, Benjamin.”

“IIII thought the couple only had _two_ children,” Julian said. “And there’s four of _us_. So...”

Sisko hummed out a jumpy laugh, ready to tease his medical officer. “ _So_ , Doctor, it sounds like two of the four are going to be sharing.”

Julian flashed hot. “Oh.” His eyes went to Dax. “Right.” A lopsided smile stuttered its way up one cheek. “Well, I’m slim, so I wouldn’t take up _too_ much space next to you in the bed.”

Dax just smiled and pushed Julian on the front of his shoulder. “Nice try, Julian. Go tell Garak he won. He’ll be happy.” She tugged the clip out of the back of her hair and let her auburn locks fall free past her shoulders, giving Julian an impish look. “See _you_ in the morning.”

Julian gaped after her as she left down the tiled hallway, turning off towards one of the children’s rooms. The door opened and golden light poured out across the hallway, then closed, and that end of the house fell dark. Only the lilac of a Bajoran sunset glowed faintly through a terraced window shutter at the far end.

Sisko took a breath in and squeezed Julian’s shoulder. “Get some rest, Doctor. If we’re going to make any progress with the mess in this province, I’ll need you on top of your game tomorrow. We’ll be moving north to see the council before nightfall.”

“Right. Yes, sir.”

Sisko stepped past in a swirl of cinnamon-scented soap. “And—” He glanced back, giving Julian a stern look in the last of the light. “Don’t let _Garak_ keep you up.”

Julian let go of an easy laugh. “We’ve had a very long day, Commander. Garak rescued every book from a whole wing of the library himself. I don’t think he’s in any mood to talk.”

Sisko replied with a wary hum. “I suggest you make sure of it.”

Julian nodded once. He watched Sisko disappear behind the nearest darkwood door, then Julian turned away and pushed at the door to the opposite room.

The master bedroom was a five-metre-wide, sparsely-furnished triangle. The air had cooled now that the sunset had dipped past the horizon, and now the lantern beside the double bed filled the room with gold. Elaborate cutout patterns stretched up the mudwalls, jagged over cracks and absent over uneven shadows in the construction.

This was one of the few homes unshaken by the recent quake, but the area had needed to be evacuated in any case. Everything had been left behind – food in the pantry, towels in the washroom, sheets on the bed, and flowers and perfume and a comb on the dressing table. Julian hadn’t said it aloud, knowing it wouldn’t go over too well in a province all but levelled by destruction, but he found the simplicity and ruggedness charming. He liked the uneven floors as if the tiles rose and fell over tiny hills. He liked that the water spluttered out of the tap instead of running properly. He liked that the bed wasn’t properly made, and that the flowers were a bit droopy. It made a nice change from DS9 which – God help him – he knew wasn’t perfect, but was a hell of a lot sleeker than this. Sure, three years on the space station had kept him on his toes, but he felt like he _could_ do with a new frontier, even a temporary one.

The second door into this room rolled open, and Garak emerged, looking less dusty than before. His hair dripped onto his shoulder ridges, quickly soaked up by the towel he raised to cover his torso.

“How’s the water?” Julian asked.

“After three supposedly-efficient Starfleet officers have happily _used up_ anything that could remotely be classified as hot, warm, or perhaps, at a stretch, _tepid_? How do you think _the water_ is, Doctor?”

Julian offered a grim smile of apology.

He found Garak’s open suitcase, which was perched on the footstool at the end of the bed. He dug out something he was sure was underwear, and presented the folded items to him in open hands. Garak huffed, took the tunic and britches, then turned away to dress.

Once Julian had searched the dressing table’s drawers and located some sleepwear for himself, he changed out of his off-duty outfit: a brown linen wrap and a pair of trousers he’d found earlier. He’d only brought uniforms with him, thinking the away team would be doing diplomatic things down on Bajor, except they’d delayed their trip by a day, lending a hand with moving rubble and healing wounds. Three Starfleet uniforms were currently hanging to dry in the kitchen, in front of the woodburning stove. Garak had packed away his own filthy garments to wash in ‘the proper solution’ once back on the station. In the meantime Julian just hoped it was okay to borrow the house-owners’ clothes. They’d permitted Starfleet to set up camp in the house, but this might be going too far. At least Julian was sure wearing their underwear was less offensive than sleeping naked.

“ _Sort_ of fits, doesn’t it,” Julian said, looking down at himself. He tugged at the crochet vest he wore, then stroked the little shorts tidy. “I never imagined Bajoran fashion was so comfy, actually.”

Garak, now in fresh undergarments, turned around to look. Every dark cloud vanished from him; his eyes lit up, his mouth opened to laugh softly, and he gazed at Julian in amusement.

“What?” Julian fretted. “Do I look silly? I’m just going to sleep, Garak, it’s not—”

“No, no—” Garak held up a hand. He gave a sweet, quiet smile, then shook his head and returned to drying the ends of his hair. “No. You make an exquisite model, Doctor. Truly. Even for the most – shall I say – _quaint_ of women’s fashions.”

Julian’s cheeks burned. “But it looks alright?”

“It looks splendid.”

“Okay.” Julian breathed out. “Wouldn’t want you _judging_ me while we’re trying to sleep.”

“Hm!” Garak seemed perfectly happy now, eyes down as he towel-squeezed his hair. Casually, he said, “I take it Mr. Sisko and Lieutenant Dax have stated a preference for the less comfortable beds.”

“For the _single_ beds, yes,” Julian said, crawling into the double bed and silently languishing in the cool sheets and plumpness of the mattress, all dipped and dented in the middle. He sat and snuck his long legs deeper under the heavy blanket, biting his lip as his leg hair ruffled against the growth, which tickled. “But that’s fine. I’m slim. So I won’t take up _too_ much space next to you.”

He chilled after he’d spoken, remembering all too well that he’d used the same line on Jadzia. Except this time he’d meant it purely as a _practical_ statement. That was all.

Except the chill wouldn’t fade. He had to say something...

“I-I-I-I mean, okay, it’s a couple’s bed, but it’s not like _you and me_ are a couple, though,” he pointed out. “We’re just _borrowing_ the bed.”

Garak eyed him, unreadable. “Indeed. Do you know, I was surprised that a pair of elderly Bajorans would allow a Cardassian to set foot upon their threshold, especially considering I intended to stay the night. Perhaps being associated with your Starfleet brigade has its perks after all.”

“Maybe we should sleep head-to-toe. Or is that weird? I’ll be right next to your feet all night. That’s weird, isn’t it. Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

“Fortunately you have said nothing of value, so there’s naught to forget.”

Julian tutted, hugging his knees through the draped blanket.

Garak hung his wet towel over the back of the wicker chair tucked up to the dressing table, then began to comb his hair with split fingers. Julian stayed sitting up in the bed, arms around his bent knees, and watched him for a while.

“Something interesting behind me, Doctor?”

Julian cracked a smile. “Is this your usual routine? Wash, finger-comb?”

“Suffice to say there are a dozen pleasant activities usually set between myself and a bed, and the use of a hairbrush is usually one of them.”

“Oh, but—” Julian’s eyes went to the mirrored dressing table. He shifted back out of bed and set bare feet to the tiles, then to the woven rug as he leaned past Garak and picked up the carved seashell comb. “Use this...”

He set a hand around a bunch of Garak’s damp hair and began to comb it down, hearing a hiss, hiss, hiss each time. He combed from root to tip a few times, and once he was certain the tool was efficient in ridding Garak’s hair of barely-existent tangles, he turned his eyes to see Garak’s face in profile – and burned in an instant when he realised Garak was staring into the mirror, mouth open, looking stunned.

Breathless, Julian ducked his head. “Oh, um. So it works! Just checking.” He moved to give Garak the comb but it _yanked_ on tangled hair and Garak yelped. Julian hurried to return the comb to its previous position, grimacing as he wiggled it loose.

“Sorry. Here.” He offered Garak the freed comb.

“Ah, so you’ll happily _tangle_ my hair but the moment you’re in a better position to detangle it, I’m entirely by myself.”

“Look, I’m only going to make it worse.”

“Make an effort not to.”

Julian hesitated, eyes darting from Garak’s face to the mirror, to Garak’s hair, then to the towel draped over his lilac-flushed shoulder ridges. Maybe Julian wasn’t the only one on fire. Surely it had to be better to push through this awkward moment rather than backing away and pretending it hadn’t happened...

So Julian made an effort.

He pulled apart the knot with his fingers, then began to comb the rest of Garak’s hair, stroking more carefully, more mindfully.

And Garak watched in the mirror.

Gently, gently...

Julian took a step left each time he moved on to a new section, gradually rotating around Garak’s form. Garak remained patient and still, the faint smile on his lips visible in his reflection.

Julian couldn’t quite believe this was happening, but he felt it: hair cool and now on the drier side of damp, comb round and smooth between fingers and thumb, the heat of the other man radiating under his knuckles. It was happening, and it was happening beautifully. They were alone, moving without restraint, without anything to hide.

This felt... very special.

‘ _Intimate_ ’ was the word that drifted into existence inside Julian’s head.

Not intimate the way medical care could be intimate. Nor intimate the way a public argument or a luncheon could be intimate. Nor was it intimate the way Julian’s conversations with Miles about his family or mental health could be.

This was different to all of that. Julian had taken so many lovers in his time, and he’d had a fair few friends, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever shared a moment quite like this with anybody.

He liked it. And he wished it didn’t have to end.

Julian finished by tucking Garak’s hair behind his ears for him, then fingering one stray lock off his cheek. They stood face-to-face, Julian smiling at a job well done, while Garak smiled at Julian.

“I think we’d... better not tell anyone,” Julian said quietly, head down, thumbing at the comb.

“Would it be so offensive?” Garak asked, warmth in his tone. “It’s hardly as if we made love.”

Julian’s eyes shot up to meet Garak’s. “What?”

Garak’s eyes seemed molten, blue turned golden in the lantern’s ambience. “My dear Doctor, you’re very sweet, but one minute with a comb and a head of hair does not a scandal make. Perhaps your friends might tease you but I doubt they’d have a bad word to say if you happened to let slip that you tidied my hair for me.”

“Oh—! Oh-hh-oh— nnnn-no I meant – I meant the comb. S-Shouldn’t tell the Bajorans I used their comb to untangle a Cardassian’s hair.”

Garak’s eye-ridges rose. “Oh. I see.”

Julian wet his lips, then turned away in haste and put down the comb. He caught sight of himself blushing in the mirror and fled the view, bounding to the bed and getting in, thrashing the covers over his knees and sitting there, pulsating with heat that wasn’t embarrassment, not at all, but it was easier to pretend it was.

Presumably to give Julian some time to calm down, Garak turned away, starting to hum. He went to a hanging planter in the corner of the room, and tugged at a leaf, then another...

He stopped humming, then made one dark, disgruntled noise.

“Something the matter?” Julian asked.

“Do excuse me.”

Garak left the triangular room and went into the washroom, which was lit in amber by a wall sconce. Julian heard the faucet squeak as it was pushed one way, then the other, and Garak returned with a bowl of water, which he poured into the planter.

“The owners will be back in a few days,” Julian reminded him. “You don’t need to do that— We don’t live here.”

“It’s a living thing, Doctor, and it is without a voice to protest its treatment; I’d rather not see it suffer.” Garak nudged a leaf as though he was bumping a child encouragingly under their chin, then turned to peer across the small room at Julian. “Besides. This province is ours for one night. This house. This plant. This bed. I see no reason we should fail to care for it simply because we’ll be leaving soon. That’s no way to live.”

Humbled, Julian found himself smiling. He tilted his head and rested his cheek on his folded arms, watching Garak return to the washroom and put away the bowl.

“When you say ‘ours’,” Julian said, as Garak re-entered the bedroom and went to dry his hair a bit more with his towel. “That’s funny, isn’t it – the thought of _us_... having a house...”

Garak slowed the strokes of his hair. “Is it?”

Julian paused to reconsider. “ _Isn’t_ it?”

“Well, I don’t think it would be out of the question. I might someday like to retire in a quiet part of the Cardassian countryside. And I can’t imagine you’d want to stay on a space station for the rest of your life. Perhaps you’d return to Earth, eventually.”

“Right! Right...” Julian’s intrigue settled a bit, and he realised he felt disappointed. But they were already talking so openly – maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to say what was on his mind... “No, I meant having a house ah-ah... as a couple.”

Garak paused in folding the towel, eyes locked on Julian’s. “I beg your pardon?”

“If we’re pretending it’s all ours. The house. The bed.” Julian shrugged, as his chest filled with sparkles. “Maybe we’re married?”

Garak started to smile, and unfolded the towel again, spreading it over the chair back to dry. “Married.”

“Well, maybe not married. That’s a bit...” Julian palmed his blushing cheeks. “Hehh.”

“Which of us proposed?” Garak asked.

Julian threw his head back laughing, suddenly giddy. “Garak!”

“You initiated this fantasy, Doctor, and I suggest you fill in the gaps, or I will. Even a novice interrogator would shatter the fiction unless you have a complete story on hand.”

“Well, who do _you_ think proposed?”

“I think neither,” Garak said, eyes wandering to a purple moth fluttering at a fleck of glitter in the mudwall. “I think we simply fell into a relationship with an unspoken understanding that it would be a lifetime’s partnership.”

“So we’re not getting married, we just live together.”

“You say ‘just’ as if there’s something insignificant about making a home with someone you care for.” Garak came to the bed and reached to dim the lantern with a twist of fingers around the base – but left enough light that the room only became a warm brown, still gold on the ceiling. He set a bare, grey-scaled knee on the mattress and Julian shuffled over to let Garak in beside him.

They lay down and bumped around in the bed, jostling and jumping until they both fit. It was a double bed but it wasn’t huge. Julian could smell the clay in the wall in front of his nose, and felt a chill rolling off it. Disliking that, he rolled over and faced Garak, jiggling about until Garak guided him still with a _hand_ on his waist under the blanket.

 _Intimate_!

Oh, goodness.

Now they shared a pillow, cool fabric under Julian’s hot face.

“Where do we live?” Julian asked, voice softened, since talking in normal tones didn’t seem right when Garak was five inches away. “Cardassia? Earth?”

Garak’s eyes lifted to the ceiling, then back to Julian. “Perhaps by that time Bajor might be a kinder place.”

“By what time?”

“By the time we’re old.”

Julian’s mouth opened in an ‘O’. “You’re imagining us as an old couple.”

“Weren’t you?”

Julian shook his head, tingling all over because Garak’s hand was still on his waist, warm and comfortable there. “I thought it was us, _now_. As we are.”

“Ah! Still young enough to make love, then.”

Julian squealed and rolled onto his back, laughing, legs kicked up and heart ajitter. “Garak! Garak, you can’t just—”

He bit his lip and rolled close to Garak, still breathy with chuckles. He felt Garak’s heat and tasted the freshness of his breath... And he gulped, laughter whisked away by desire.

Garak’s smile was as enigmatic as always, but closer than it ever had been before.

“Do we make love often?” Julian asked, wondering why his voice was so low.

Garak nodded once, slowly. “Perhaps not every night – you are younger than me, after all – but... when the mood takes us. Yes.”

Julian felt a shiver descend his spine. His lips parted, and he licked them. “I-I-I think I want to kiss you.”

Garak’s lips parted too. “Oh...”

Julian flushed hot-cold and he retreated by an inch, horrified by the words that passed his lips without context. “In the fantasy! In the _fantasy_ I want to kiss you. A lot. Always. Every day.”

“Ah.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Quite all right, Doctor! Quite all right.”

Julian grinned briefly. “Do you want to kiss me?”

Garak nodded, eyes on Julian’s lips. “You’re a wonderful kisser, I suspect.”

Julian grinned. “Ohhh, I am.”

“Hm!” Apparently pleased, Garak allowed his hand to stroke around Julian’s waist and up his lower back, lifting the crochet vest. Julian sucked in a breath and arched his spine, pressing his middle to Garak’s.

“Do your family know?” Garak asked gently.

“Know what?”

“That you’re in love with me.”

Julian covered his sound of surprise with a quick laugh. “No. No, I haven’t told them. I don’t think I will. But m— My friends.” Garak’s hand trailed down Julian’s spine, fingertips on skin. “Mm-m-mmmmmghhmmm...”

Julian shut his eyes, feeling pleasure.

“I missed that, Doctor. What was it you said?”

Julian gulped and tried again, forcing his eyes open. “Friends. They know.” He sighed, surging an inch closer to make up for the space he’d detracted before. “Do you like being underneath me?”

“I’m sorry?”

“When we make love.” Julian felt himself blazing, unashamed to ask. He barely comprehended what he was saying but he let it flow from him, riding instinct; he asked what he honestly wanted to know. Garak was playing with him; he could play back. “Do you like feeling me inside you?”

Garak stopped moving – stopped _breathing_. He just stared.

Julian shuddered and shut his eyes tight. “Damn. Sorry. Sorry. I’m getting too into it, aren’t I? I take it back. Sorry, Garak. Um. Come on, let’s turn the light off.”

“Yes.”

Julian paused while reaching over Garak’s shoulder, about to twist the lamp. “Pardon? Yes what?”

“I like— I love. Being. Feeling you insi—” Garak’s lashes fluttered and he couldn’t make eye contact. Julian was sure he saw him blushing. “I like that.”

“...Oh.”

“I want—” Garak shivered, breath catching and releasing. He held Julian’s waist with both hands now, stroking skin with thumbs as Julian lay back down. “I—”

“Say it,” Julian breathed, nosing closer, holding Garak’s waist now too. “Garak, tell me.”

Garak shook his head.

“Do you want me to touch you?” Julian asked, fizzing from scalp to soles at the sheer _excitement_ those words caused. “With my hands? My fingers?”

Garak made a soft squeaky noise, eyes falling shut. “Yes,” he whispered.

“What about my mouth?” Julian asked. “Kiss you...?”

Garak nodded.

“Lick.”

Garak nodded.

Julian sucked his own lower lip, feeling it plumping and prickling. “God, I want to spread your legs and _push_ inside.”

Garak tensed in the bed, eyes shut gently, mouth open wide, flushed pinky-purple on his cheeks. “Doctor...”

“It’s Julian.”

Garak panted slowly, opening his eyes to gaze at Julian. God, his pupils were dilated now, and it wasn’t because of the dim light. “Julian,” Garak repeated. A softer whisper: “Julian...”

“I can suck on your ridges,” Julian said. “While I fuck you.”

Garak looked at him with obvious want. “Would you?”

“Yes.” Julian nudged his chest closer, but dared not touch his growing erection against Garak’s body. “Do you want me to call you by your first name?”

“Please do.” No hesitation.

“Elim.”

Garak actually _moaned_. Again: “Juli _aaan_...”

Julian watched him, fascinated. “Garak, are you still pretending?”

Garak blinked a few times, eyes finally focusing on Julian’s. “Pretending...”

“It’s just—” Julian’s eyes darted away, then back. “It’s a bit hard to tell with you. And I—” He grinned worriedly. “I think I really _like_... this. This game.”

Garak’s voice was deep and dangerous as he asked, “Would you like to keep playing?”

So it _was_ still a game.

“Do _you_ want to?”

Garak nodded. Julian’s grin burst out in relief and he snuggled up to Garak, buried his face against his chest and nuzzled there, rubbing his lips on the cotton-like undershirt and purring without shame.

Tentatively, Garak lay a palm behind Julian’s head.

Julian giggled, surging higher in the bed and squeezing Garak tight. Then he hurriedly leaned his head back to see Garak’s face. “Wait, do we like cuddling?”

Garak chuckled. “Yes, I believe so.”

“Oh, thank God.” Julian collapsed back to Garak and giggled again, arush with so many endorphins that he felt like he was glowing. He paddled his feet at the other end of the bed, too happy to comprehend his thoughts. But his excitable movements went still and steady as Garak enveloped him in warm, _strong_ arms, and held him softly.

Julian blinked a few times, awed. “Oh... You...”

“Hmmm?” Garak rested his lips on Julian’s forehead.

“You’re a really good cuddler.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

Julian felt another burst of delight and laughed again, squirming and wiggling, then nuzzling his nose into Garak’s neck ridges until Garak let out a sound of indecipherable emotion.

“Gah— Hee-hee-hee—” Julian kept giggling, he couldn’t help it. “Garak?”

“Mm.”

“Does this make you happy?”

Garak didn’t reply for a while.

Then Garak asked, “The fantasy? Or the reality?”

“Reality. Us actually cuddling.”

“Of course.” Garak’s smile was audible. “I wouldn’t describe it as happiness, personally, but... I certainly feel more... _alive_.”

“Oh, well, that’s good, isn’t it?”

“I’d say so. It’s certainly a welcome feeling.”

A pause.

“Elim...?”

“Mm.”

Julian hesitated... then hesitated again.

“Julian? What—”

Julian fell upward into a kiss, hands holding Garak’s cheeks, eyes closed, breath rushing through his nose as he smooched hard and separated Garak's lips with his own.

He slipped away, body flaming too hot. He breathed in recovery at Garak’s throat, shaking. Both of them were shaking.

Julian let out little huffed laughs, trembling, afraid but exhilarated. For while all he could hear was his own pounding heartbeat.

For a number of seconds, he didn’t know what Garak thought of what he’d just done...

But then Garak stroked his back, and slid a warm palm up to push through Julian’s hair, fingertips to his scalp. Julian snuggled up again with a glad hum.

“I think,” Garak said, carefully...

“Mm?” Julian fretted for a moment.

“In this fantasy life of ours, I’d have no qualms in telling you I—”

Julian glanced up, then pulled back enough so his eyes could meet Garak’s, although Garak was blinking too much and looking too low to make contact. “Tell me what?”

“That I—” Garak gulped. “Wish you a good night. And I hope you rest well before tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Julian didn’t hide his disappointment, until he realised maybe he should’ve. “Oh, thank you! Yeah, I— Me too. You too.”

Garak met his eyes just to give him a plain and simple smile. Julian smiled back – genuine, but not as heartfelt as it could’ve been.

Unsure what to do now, he settled down as if to sleep, except he was still snug in Garak’s arms and Garak wasn’t letting go.

Staring at an exposed scale on Garak’s collarbone, Julian decided to ask... “Garak?”

“Yes, Doctor?”

“Can I kiss you goodnight?”

Garak trembled with laughter, holding Julian closer for a moment. “Did you enjoy your little experiment, then?”

“Exp— Garaaak,” Julian grinned, levering himself up so he could look down on Garak discerningly. “I might be playing _with_ you but I’m not _playing_ with you, if that makes any sense at all.”

Garak’s eyes simply twinkled. After a beat, he said, “You may kiss me if you’d like.”

Julian’s heart flipped. “Oh! Okay, um...”

He snuck closer and closer, moving uncertainly, but eventually rested nose-to-nose above Garak, hot breath mingling on lips, eyes half-shut.

Garak opened his mouth, and with a soft moan made the connection, eyes closed, head turned, both hands sinking deeply into Julian’s hair. Julian melted into the kiss, as sparkles went roaming through his chest, inner thighs, and the palms of his hands, like the night sky on the turn.

They breathed fiercely against each other’s cheeks, twisting lips as they forced the kiss in another direction. Julian broke it to pant, then to laugh, electrified by glee. Garak tried to stroke Julian’s softly-stubbled cheek with a thumb but Julian was over-sensitised now, and just laughed, barking the noise into Garak’s face.

He kept giggling when Garak sounded disgruntled, and Julian fell onto his back breathless with titters when Garak shoved him away. Garak let out a few uncertain laughs, and the encouragement was enough to keep Julian laughing until his stomach was aching and his lungs were empty and he was all but wailing in his need to calm down.

He felt Garak’s hand on his shaking belly, half stuck on exposed skin, and Julian whimpered, gasping for breath, on the edge of tears. His mouth hurt from grinning so hard.

Even in Julian’s fuzzy vision, Garak looked back with obvious fondness.

“Sss—” Julian huff-huffed for a few more breaths. “Sorry. Can’t— Auhh. Oh, God. Mm.” He rolled over, thoughtless, taking another kiss or five, then laughing about that too. “Hee-hee-hmm-hm-m _hmmmm_.”

He shut his eyes as Garak held him still and planted another gesture of affection on his lips. It was soft. Sweet. Garak wasn’t smiling.

Julian tried to laugh, but somehow it didn’t feel very funny. It was a bit confusing, actually.

They gazed at each other, as the giggles left Julian’s system like the end of a twirling lightshow in the midnight sky.

Sudden clarity left him... vulnerable.

He twitched closer, waiting to see if Garak would lean in...

Yes.

They kissed again. Garak rolled Julian onto his back and kissed him into the pillow, being nothing but tender with him: each kiss and each touch to his waist was gentle and unhurried. Julian felt clouds come over his thoughts again – but that felt good; it felt comforting. He relaxed into being kissed, moaning thoughtlessly as Garak slid a hand under his top to finger at his ribs.

This time when their kiss broke, the look they shared was dark, dewy, and amorous.

Julian reached up and cradled Garak behind his shoulder ridges, thrilled when he saw Garak’s expression flicker – that had to feel good.

Carefully, Julian rolled them both over again, so Garak lay back, and Julian could straddle his lap. He didn’t make complete contact, and kept his weight on his knees sunk into the mattress, unwilling to let Garak feel his arousal. They didn’t break eye contact, not even once, as Julian got comfortable, then leaned down...

Their eyes closed so they could kiss, holding each other’s necks and the bases of each other’s skulls. They made no sound for a while, just exploring what it was like to kiss like this, without hesitation or uncertainty.

Shivers kept running down Julian’s spine, static in his limbs, and he felt it keenly, letting the sensations result in a tiny gasp, or a stutter in his otherwise steady breathing.

“Elim,” Julian whispered. “Ah— I—”

“What is it, my dear?”

Julian bit his lip as he smiled, cheek pressed on Garak’s. He spoke softly near the pillow, near Garak’s ridged ear. “Do you want to touch me?”

“I thought we already established yes.”

“I— I know. But I mean... _really_ touch. Now. In this bed. While this world’s ours and we’re together.”

“While we’re... playing.”

Julian nodded.

Garak’s hands slid down Julian’s back, all the way to the band of his shorts, then back up under his shirt. “Will you tell your friends?”

Julian shook his head, affronted that Garak thought he’d be so open about whatever happened between the two of them in the privacy of a bedroom. But then he considered how excited the mere _idea_ made him, that he and Garak might _actually_ be sexually intimate, and he tensed, clutching Garak as a little cry escaped him. “I think – whether we tell them or don’t, they’ll know. Not every detail. It’s just – I can’t promise I’ll be able to hide it. I think it might be obvious. I’m not as good a liar as you.”

“Would it be—”

Garak stopped before asking.

Julian lifted his torso to look at him. “Hm?”

Garak made a fragile noise, legs spreading a little under the blankets. “Would you...?”

His eyes dipped low, then back up, implying.

Julian’s eyebrows rose. “You want me to— Like... like we talked about? Me...” a whispered secret: “pushing into you?”

Garak blushed fully and nodded, lips open, not looking at Julian. Trembled whispers: “Please. _Auhh_ , Julian, _please_ —”

“Ohh, shh, shh—” Julian surged against Garak, shaking his head. “It’s alright. Don’t worry. Don’t worry, it’ll be okay. I can do that for you. Look at me?”

Garak struggled, but he met Julian’s eyes. God, Julian had never seen him look so afraid.

“I’ll be gentle,” Julian promised.

Garak looked like he might weep. “I want— I—”

Julian kissed him, then stroked his cheek with a thumb over and over. “I’m listening.”

“Can we keep... pretending?” Garak gazed up at him, doe-eyed. “That we’re in— That we’re together.”

Julian nodded eagerly.

Garak sobbed and held Julian to his face, kissing his neck. “Push on me, Julian. Push. Now. Now. Now.”

Julian, astounded that they were starting already, gently pressed his hips to Garak at last. They both gasped and tensed and then laughed in pleasant shock, both discovering for the first time that the other was erect.

“You everted,” Julian muttered in awe, feeling wetness in Garak’s crotch and the hard line of his erection poking out. “When?”

Garak shook his head. “When did you...?”

“Get hard? Um?” Julian spasmed as he started a gentle rhythm, pushing but not rubbing against Garak’s crotch. “I don’t remember. I— God! Suddenly I don’t remember _anything_.”

Garak laughed hot breath against Julian’s shoulder, and it came with a nice sound. It wasn’t the skeptical chuckle or dark hum Julian usually heard – this was a real laugh, a bright and careless crackle of joy.

Julian shifted up his rhythm, putting down more pressure – sparks burst between his legs and he let out a tight breath, then a tiny sigh. His eyelids fell hooded and his gaze unfocused as he humped a few times.

“Julian,” Garak breathed. “Oh...”

Julian giggled with as much delight as he had before, but not because he felt silly or because it felt easier to do this if it was a joke. This was pure, pure glee.

“Can I...?” Julian slipped a hand out of Garak’s mostly-dry hair and snuck it down his side, trailing and cupping every curve along the way. Garak said no word against the additional touches, and Julian’s hand finally made it to the split between Garak’s tunic and breeches. Still rolling his hips against Garak, Julian made eye contact, silently asking for permission to go further.

Garak’s tiny smirk provided.

So, with two shucks of his fingers, and a pause in his pushes, Julian made an opening between the fabrics and moved his hand down between Garak’s legs.

Garak arched in the bed, head back, drawing in a deep and shaking breath.

He was wet and hot and _hard_. Julian’s fingertips slipped in Garak’s fluid and sped straight to the opening of his cloaca, pausing there to explore the softened flesh.

“Ah,” Garak moaned, eyelids flickering. His legs spread wider. Silently, his mouth moved: “ _Please..._ ”

Julian circled the base of Garak’s erection, tracing the root of it back to his cloaca again, stroking there. Garak was shivering now, and each movement caused warm, wet fabric to cling to the backs of Julian’s knuckles. He could feel Garak quivering, both in body and emotion.

“Can I put my—”

“Yes. Yes,” Garak begged, nodding fast, clinging to Julian’s upper arms. He was panting now, looking up at Julian with blackout eyes. “Yes, Julian. Anything you want.”

Julian gave Garak a kiss on the forehead – lips to the spoonlike ridge, holding there long enough to make Garak whimper – then Julian breathed out, relaxed, and let his middle finger slip inside the other man.

Garak breathed faster, holding Julian’s arms with a paling grip. “Auh— Auh. Oh. Oh.” He squirmed around that finger, working it into a movement, so Julian quickly understood he liked the friction. They grinned together, Julian peering down at his lover while Garak shut his eyes in bliss, making sounds of relief.

“I can’t believe we’re—” Julian breathed out on Garak’s forehead, making him moan as heat ghosted his central ridge. “Oh my God, this is amazing. Isn’t this amazing, Garak?”

Garak nodded and nodded, tiny movements. He was tense in the bed, probably with his toes curled in the sheets out of sight. His breathing had gone ragged, eyes rolled back in his head. The smallest sliver of white was visible under his fluttering lashes.

Julian didn’t ask before moving to kiss Garak’s shoulder ridges, going for the darkest scale where the cord met up with his ear. Julian mouthed at it gently, sucking a little, humming in response when Garak wailed.

“How long do you think it’s been since we last made love?” Julian asked, murmuring against Garak’s ridges. “A day, a week?”

“Too long, my dear,” Garak murmured back, a smile in his words. “It’s always too long. Oh, just a little deeper, if you please... Oh, perfect. Oh, perfect, perfaaaaa...” Garak’s hands stroked up and down Julian’s thin arms in time with the shift of his buried finger. “I sh-should best express my gratitude, Doctor, that y-you’re. You’re so. Oh. Oh-h-h. Capable. Your hands. Your haaa....”

Julian sucked on his neck ridges, as promised, and he felt Garak clench up around him.

Julian hesitated, then pulled up to meet Garak’s eyes. “I could keep going like this. Do you think this would make you climax? Just my fingers?”

Garak guffawed and his eyes closed tight. Once he’d spend three seconds laughing, he hummed a long note, gazing at Julian like he’d said something naive.

Julian inferred the answer from the look. “Okay, so, if you _could_ , does that mean you don’t need me to— Um. That is to say—” He blushed and looked down.

Garak’s knuckles caught Julian under the chin and made their eyes meet again. Garak waited for honesty.

Julian tried: “Did you really want me to – y’know – fuck y—” He swallowed. “Because I think I’d quite like to, to, um. Make love to you. A bit. If that’s okay? But we’d have to undress. And we might see... quite a bit of each other.”

“I’m happy to undress.”

Julian flushed hot. “Really?”

“We can stay under the blanket for the most part.”

“Oh, yes. Good idea.”

Garak smiled and released Julian’s arms, but Julian took a moment to understand Garak was giving him room to move away to take his clothes off. With a bashful huff, Julian removed his finger from Garak’s cloaca and then from his underwear. Garak sighed at the loss but smiled widely, apparently pleased it had happened at all. Julian smirked back assuringly, then wriggled himself out of the bed – ugh, cold – and stood to take off his crochet vest. He tossed that on the foot of the bed, then checked to see how Garak was doing.

Garak sat up in bed, peeling off his wet breeches. He caught Julian looking at him and grimaced, not being discreet at all as he dropped the fluid-darkened underwear straight onto the tiles beside the bed.

He paused halfway through taking off his top, however, having seen Julian tug his erection out of the shorts he’d borrowed, and now watched him masturbating slowly. Garak’s expression came over with curiosity and arousal, focused and intense. He had to be thinking about having Julian inside him...

Julian let the last of his clothing drop to the floor – and then, pretending not to be screaming with excitement inside and instead acting completely smooth – well, he hoped – he crawled onto the bed and made his way back to Garak, holding his gaze the whole time.

Garak hurriedly divested himself of his top and lay down and spread his legs wide under the blanket. Julian was still on the other side of the blanket, but could see the shape of Garak under the cloth: a valley with a single peak in the middle. Julian couldn’t help himself – he ran a palm over the groove, brushing linen but making Garak shudder.

Julian pried up the blanket, and as he tucked his body under it he chanced a look, thrilled by the sight of Garak’s fat grey-lilac erection, more red towards the root and the opening of his cloaca, all slick with his natural lubrication. Julian grinned, settling himself between Garak’s warm thighs.

Garak draped the blanket over them both, up to their waists. He then took Julian’s cheeks in both palms, and Julian perched over him with hands pressed deep into the mattress.

“Doctor,” Garak said. He exhaled, eyes shining. “...Julian...”

Julian turned his head slightly to kiss Garak’s wrist. “I’m here, darling.”

Garak squinted, stumped by that word. “Darling?”

“Oh... Oh, it’s— It’s a nice thing to call someone you like. Affectionate. Like ‘my dear’.”

Garak’s smile widened. “Darling. Oahh...” He surged his hips, pressing his wetness to the underside of Julian’s cock and making him call out. “Please. Pl— Make love with me, Julian. Here. Now. In our house, in our bed...”

Julian sigh-moaned and nodded, falling to kiss the spoon-shaped ridge on Garak’s forehead over and over. “Do you just want me to... to just push in? Is that why you’re so wet? You’re wet for _me_ , aren’t you, Garak?”

Garak trembled with each kiss, vocalising faintly with pleasure, so couldn’t even attempt to speak until Julian lifted away from his sensitive forehead.

Finally, after several slow, calming breaths, Garak nodded, thumbs ruffling Julian’s sideburns. “I suggest you... insert yourself slowly. A Cardassian male’s cloaca is certainly not intended for penetration, although the ‘wetness’ may give that impression. The fluid’s purpose is simply to allow me to evert smoothly. I’m sorry to say it, my dear, but I— I don’t think I can fit all of you inside me without significant practice.”

Julian hummed at the unintentional compliment. “Tell me if I hurt you and I’ll stop.”

“Ohhhh, I don’t mind if you hurt me.”

Julian caught Garak’s eyes, pausing with his erection in his hand, the head of it now resting at Garak’s hot opening. “What do you mean?”

“I wouldn’t mind. Give in to your passion; leave a mark if you’d like.” Garak’s voice sounded so encouraging, his tone almost normal, as if he was simply asking Julian to lend him another book before tomorrow’s luncheon. Upon registering Julian’s delay, Garak tilted his head, curious. “Is that not normal practise for Humans?”

Julian gaped. “ _Oh_ , well. Sometimes! I-I-I mean, not personally, but – is that really what you like?”

Garak seemed wary. “Does the idea put you off?”

“No! No, not at all. I’m just— I don’t _want_ to hurt you, is the thing. I’d rather you be comfortable.”

For a split-second Garak looked like he was going to laugh, and argue, but then, the longer he looked into Julian’s eyes, the more he softened. Not in a resigned or condescending way, but in a way that seemed even more vulnerable.

“You’ll be... gentle... with me...?”

“Yes, Elim.” Julian snuggled closer and kissed him once. “Always.”

He snuck a hand up Garak’s forearm and took his hand, fingers between fingers.

Garak held on.

And he whimpered, eyes going round and helpless, face crumpling into an expression of want and affection. “Julian...”

“Oh...” Julian saw how undone Garak had become and his heart surged with feeling. “It’s all right, my darling; I won’t make you wait. I can start now. Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

Julian steadied himself, bit his lip, and glanced down for just long enough to see into the shadows and watch himself set his cockhead in the right place, and...

Garak began to breathe erratically, eye contact fervent, nostrils flaring, lips parted, tongue shivering shiny as it hovered in his mouth. The tightness of Garak’s cloaca around Julian’s cock was blinding to experience; the heat was enough to burn, almost, and the sheer intimacy of being halfway inside his closest friend was too much to think about right now. Julian could barely comprehend the level of reactivity they had here. He breathed and Garak felt it. Garak felt a zap of electricity down his spine and it ran into Julian’s hands and feet. Each barest shift of their bodies whispered in the sheets; the wet slip of their enjoined bodies filled Julian’s senses inside and out. He could smell Garak’s rawest flesh, as he could smell his own precome. Bitter. Warm. Salty. In this setting it was purely delicious.

Garak began to relax, perhaps consciously. Julian felt his cloaca open up a little more, and Julian accidentally slipped in another inch.

Garak shut his eyes a few times, and held onto Julian’s hand, stroking it with a thumb...

Eventually he sighed, and melted into the pillow, eyes shut.

Julian cradled his jaw and kissed him, starting to move just the tiniest bit.

Garak moaned long and low, eyes half-open, head turned. “Oh, mmm— My dear, you don’t—”

Julian halted. “Everything okay?”

“Don’t stop! I’m perfectly fine, my dear; don’t stop...”

Julian carried on. Slow. Sliding in. Tilting his hips to pull most of the way out. The sensation was fascinating – the inner sides of Garak’s cloaca were as smooth and slippery as someone’s inner cheek, but the internal sheath where Garak’s erection usually hid away was wrinkled and textured like nothing else Julian had ever felt, and it took all his strength not to angle himself just to push in that direction over and over. Garak was still getting used to Julian’s size – the average Human phallus was a good two inches longer than a Cardiassian’s, after all, and Julian got a bit thicker whenever he was hard. Julian doubted Garak had ever felt this full before.

“You don’t know,” Garak breathed, returning to his unfinished statement, “how badly I’ve craved this.”

Julian smirked. “I know what you mean. Obviously I always... go home with women. But s-sometimes I... I do wish...”

Garak blinked a few times, gazing at him intently. “Yes?”

Julian shrugged a shoulder and squeezed Garak’s hand. “I do think about other kinds of people. Just never got around to acting on it, really. Must feel nice, having... somebody inside you.”

“Ohh, it’s wonderful,” Garak murmured, relaxing further. “But that wasn’t what I meant when I said I’ve craved this.”

“Oh?”

“I was – ah... – referring to...” Garak began to shift his hips, upping the friction, “you, my dear.”

Julian’s eyes widened. “Pardon?”

“I’ve rather wanted you for a while, Doctor.”

Julian slowed his already-slow thrusts, stunned to the core. “You have?”

“Did you think our little fantasy roleplay came out of nowhere?”

“Well... no...” Excited by Garak’s admission, Julian blurted, “Because, I— I mean, _I’ve_ been interested in you since we met, really, and – and – ah-ah-and obviously in the meantime I’ve... well... developed _feelings_ for you – you know, sort of romantic-y, sexual ones? Um.” The heat of a blush overtook him. “In hindsight I suppose I must’ve... come off as completely enamoured tonight, mustn’t I, given how much I wanted to ‘pretend’ with you. But, God! I’m so glad you _said_ something, Garak.” Smiling cheekily, he added, “I wanted to tell you before we started this, and I _really_ thought you were going to say you loved me, but I didn’t even _realise_ you genuinely felt... the same... way...”

Julian blushed, trailing off and freezing up.

“Wait...” He’d just thought of something horrible. “Damn. _Damn_! We’re still playing, aren’t we?” He chilled with shame. “For a second I thought you actually meant...”

He laughed uncomfortably, head down. His entire body flamed cold with regret, hating that he’d allowed his mask to slip.

Realising that Garak’s ‘confession’ had been part of the game and saying as much _aloud_ was the worst thing, as it made clear Julian had been honest with his own thoughtless confession.

“Gosh,” he said, voice small. “I’m no good at this, am I?”

Garak gave him a kind look, stroking Julian’s chin. “On the contrary, I think your instincts when it comes to me are fairly exemplary, in fact.”

“Do you think so? I’m not so sure about— _Auh_ —” Julian felt a tingle all the way up his body when Garak’s adjustment in the bed made him slip deeper. Julian panicked and muttered, “Oh, God, I’m sorry!”

“For what?”

The genuine confusion in Garak’s tone gave Julian pause.

“Don’t you want to stop?” Julian asked.

Garak huffed. “Due to a simple misunderstanding? Hm...” He played a hand through Julian’s hair. “Believe me, my dear Doctor, stopping _this_ is quite possibly the last thing on my mind.”

“Oh...”

Garak held Julian’s cheek in a warm hand, and Julian, comforted by that, leaned his head into the touch.

Garak smiled and it reached his eyes immediately. “Whenever you’re ready, I _would_ very much... like to continue.”

With a gulp, Julian allowed himself to relax and smile. “Ah-alright...”

He tried a little hump, and when Garak reacted with a glad and pleasured sound, Julian pushed in a few times more and started a new rhythm, which quickly became needy and urgent, all of him enveloped by heat and sensation. The bed started to shake as he hurriedly presspresspressed himself into Garak’s tight channel. Mis-steps aside, he still couldn’t believe his least-trusting friend trusted him to _do_ this. “Garaaaaak...”

“How are you feeling, my dear?” Garak asked in his sweetest voice.

“Oh, besides mortified?”

Garak _laughed_ , then cooed assuringly. “Besides that,” he agreed, still smiling.

Julian looked at Garak as they rocked together, and only saw bright affection in his gaze, no judgement. Maybe Garak would act like Julian had never said anything about his massive crush.

“Amazing,” Julian answered. “I feel – ah, really amazing. Ohh, I can’t wait for you to make me _come_ ,” he moaned, burning all over, heart overwhelmed. “But I don’t want this to be _over_.”

“It doesn’t have to be over,” Garak replied. “Remember what I said: you and I, Doctor, we fell into a relationship with the understanding it would be—”

“A lifetime partnership.” Julian remembered vividly. His heart thrilled at those words. “But we’re just pretending, aren’t we? Obviously I— I know it’s _real_ , what we’re doing now – real enough – but it will still be over. We’re only doing this while all of this belongs to us. It’s just one time – isn’t it?”

“One wonderful time...” Garak couldn’t have sounded more wistful if he tried.

“But, Elim – what’s everything – _auh!_ – going to be like between us tomorrow? Aren’t we going to want this over and over now we know it’s so _lovely_? How are we meant to go around _pretending_ to be in love forever? Or, otherwise, how do we _forget_ it? How do _I_ forget it? Garak—” Julian slowed his pace to look at him, pleading... then defeated. “Why are you letting this happen?”

“Pardon me?”

“You heard me, didn’t you? You heard me say I have feelings for you.” Julian gulped and swallowed hard, head bowed. “Are we just going to pretend that never happened? That _this_ never happened?”

“I thought the whole point was to pretend. It’s a simple game, Doctor.”

“Simple!” Julian’s laugh was no more than a frustrated blast of air. “It’s not ‘ _simple_ ’. If that’s the game you’re playing then I... I don’t think I want to play anymore. I really like this. I— I’m sorry, but I really like _you_. I didn’t want to say it. I don’t w— Garak, I think I might love you. I’m sorry. It’s supposed to be a game and I’m sorry but I feel – _so much_ right now and I don’t think it’s just the sex – I think I _love_ you. I think I – _want_ this. I think I want to be with you. And if you don’t want that, we need to stop this game, and this touching, and this openness immediately, because everything we’re doing right now is making it harder to ignore my feelings. A lot harder. Very quickly.”

With a hand placed on Julian’s chest, Garak made movement cease altogether. Julian’s soul sank. This was it. Garak was going to ask him to pull out and Julian would need to sleep in the kitchen. He wondered if they’d ever be able to look each other in the eye again. That was it for lunches at Quark’s and teatimes at the Replimat, too. Julian’s life would be very lonely, going forward.

But all Garak said was, “You ‘think’ you might love me?” Garak’s eyes flitted between each of Julian’s, as if searching him. “You’re not certain?”

“Oh, God.” Julian sighed in despair. “No. Garak, I am _certain_. There’s no doubt. I just didn’t want to say it in case you still want to pretend – and _damn_ it, there’s no taking it back now, is there?! God!” He thumped his head down on Garak’s shoulder ridges—

“YOWH!”

“Shit!” Julian lifted his head. “Sorry! Sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you! Oh no, I’m terrible at this! Shh. Shhhh, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Garak, with tears of agony in his eyes, shook his head and put on a strained smile.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Julian kissed Garak’s bruised shoulder ridges all over then kissed his cheek and his eye ridges and his temple, pouring affections and apologies into every peck and smooch.

Garak’s body began to ease in tension after a number of those, and even though he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to, Julian began to move inside him again, which allowed Garak a better distraction.

But then came a worse one: there was a noise in the hallway.

Julian froze, suddenly on high alert. Garak froze, eyes darting to the door.

Julian checked over his shoulder, relieved to see the door was definitely shut. There were two people out there, muttering. Sisko. Dax. They must’ve heard Garak’s cry of pain. They’d definitely heard all the laughter too, but pain wasn’t so easy to ignore.

Julian fought to control his pulse so he could hear over the booming.

Alright, he didn’t _mind_ if Sisko and Dax knew he and Garak had tried something together, but he didn’t want them to _see_...

Julian’s eyes moved to the wicker chair tucked up under the dressing table. He could maybe drag the chair and cram its back under the door handle as a makeshift lock... But that would mean pulling out of Garak and he didn’t want to do that yet... or at all...

Voices, voices. Sisko’s forceful utterance; a placating word from Dax. She was holding him back. She must have suspicions about what was going on in here.

Worried, Julian gnawed on his lip as he looked back to Garak. Garak remained lying in the bed, legs open, submissive, blushing, naked.

The truth was, it would be hard for Julian to be seen like this, but Garak would probably expire on the spot if anyone caught him in this position.

So Julian did the best he could: he brought the blanket all the way up and hid them both.

Breaths echoed. It smelled _strongly_ of sex under here. Too humid to breathe freely.

Garak gulped, and brought Julian into a close embrace, making them both smaller.

Julian expected Garak to want to just lie still and listen until the coast was clear, and then make him pull out unfinished, but instead Garak began to rock, forcing Julian to slip deeper and pull back – slip, slip – drawing an involuntary “G’Uhh,” from the back of Julian’s throat.

He settled into it, allowing Garak to dictate how they proceeded. Now knowing Garak wanted to keep going, Julian kept going.

Maybe Garak hadn’t understood properly. Maybe he didn’t realise that if they kept going, it meant something; it acknowledged Julian’s feelings. Maybe Garak just liked how it felt? Maybe it was too hard to stop. But Julian couldn’t stop either. He assumed his heart would be broken later, but for now, he gave himself to it, pretending again: pretending Garak loved him back.

So they made love gently and silently under the blanket, sharing breath, holding hands, hiding in their safest shelter.

Apparently forgetting they had an audience, Garak let go of a _glorious_ moan, body unfurling under Julian. Terror and thrills stung Julian’s entire being. Did someone hear? _Surely_ they’d heard that—

But as Julian poked his head into the cool air to listen, and listen hard, he heard the opposite of what he expected. Sisko squeaked a laugh, and was then heard no more.

Dax snickered to herself, and soon the soft rustles of her presence also disappeared.

Two doors closed in the hallway.

Julian sighed in relief, but even his half-smile couldn’t take hold, too worried on Garak’s behalf. Was it possible to tell what he and Garak were doing just from a moan? It had been a particularly pleasured moan. Definitely sexual. Definitely Garak. If Julian had heard a woman make a similar noise there’d have been no doubt what someone was doing with her. Or doing _for_ her...

But Julian took one look at Garak and all anxiety vanished in a puff of breath. There was Garak’s smug, knowing smile.

He’d wanted them to hear. And realise what was happening. And leave.

“Oh, you little—” Julian burst out laughing, and lowered his head to reward Garak with a tongue on a shoulder ridge. A dozen kisses followed. “I thought you were just playing with _me_. But even in your current state you’re toying with everyone.”

“Ah – I find,” Garak murmured, between vocal huffs of breath, “when someone appears the most vulnerable, they are in f— _auuh_... in fact, in a position of – of power, hmmmm, and... and most will be none the wiser.”

Julian smirked against Garak’s ear and whispered, teasingly, “You just keep telling yourself that, darling.”

Garak moaned weakly, clearly not embarrassed to do so. He cuddled Julian and kissed his neck, coiling one muscular leg around Julian’s calf and ruffling up his leg hair.

“You feel beautiful,” Julian told him, nuzzling his cheek, giving him kisses. “You _are_ beautiful. And I love you.”

Garak shuddered. “Ohhh, the games we play, Doctor...” He grinned, eyes shut. “Perhaps I’m not the only one seeking power.”

“I’m not playing, Garak, I mean it.”

Garak gave him a sly look out of the corner of one eye. “You just keep telling yourself that, my dear.”

Julian smiled, but the smile faded the moment Garak shut his eyes again. Garak wasn’t going to believe him, was he? And there was no way to prove he meant his words from the heart.

“Garak?”

“Mm.”

“How do you feel? When I say that.”

“When you say...?”

“That I love you.”

Garak smiled widely, a peek of his bright eyes showing under his lust-heavy eyelids. “Perhaps I feel like there’s hope for you yet, Doctor, as you do play in such a way that it’s hard to discern your truth. Or perhaps... I’m concerned that you do really mean it, and all my teachings have been for naught.”

“Naught? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Only a fool of the highest order would allow themselves to genuinely feel such a thing,” Garak said matter-of-factly. “I’ve said it before and I will no doubt say it again: sentiment is the greatest weakness of all.”

Julian sneered in revulsion, but refused to let Garak’s words ruin the moment.

“What about when I do this?” He paused the movements of his hips, and cradled Garak’s face, tilting it to kiss him. It was a slow kiss. Open-mouthed, tongue-licks and breaths and easy pressure. Heavenly, even by Julian’s standards. He allowed himself to feel every flicker and flame of affection and attraction that he’d ever felt for Garak all at once, wanting it to be undeniable.

Garak was left disoriented and pink-lipped, breathless, eyes glazed and darker than ever before. He took a while to find Julian’s eyes, but then he opened his mouth and lied, voice weighted down by emotion and lust. “I feel nothing.”

Julian began to fuck him again, gently. Push. Push. Holding him; pushing.

“And this?” Julian stroked Garak’s thigh, kissed his neck ridges, kissed his cheek. Whispered against his jaw: “Tell me you feel nothing.”

“Nothing,” Garak breathed. He moaned, arching in the bed, then begged, pleaded, “Don’t stop.”

“I won’t stop,” Julian promised, “so long as you tell me one true thing about what you’re feeling.”

“There is – no s-such thing – as truth, Doctor,” Garak rasped. He was blushing more; he couldn’t keep his eyes open. His cloaca was more relaxed now, but more and more often he’d tense up, breath hitched. He had to be on the edge of climax.

“There’s no... no _universal_ truth, maybe, as experience is unique to everyone,” Julian said, hoping his sex-fogged brain was giving him complete sentences to say. “But there’s a truth for you. There’s a truth for me. Mine is that I’m – I’m _feeling_ something, Garak. Deeper than physical. More than mental, intellectual. We just created a world together, a life together, and I _miss_ it. How can that be a lie, Garak? How can we call it a game? I want it! I want what we described. Don’t take it from me. Please.” He craned his short torso up so he was flush to Garak’s chest, heart to heart, hands holding Garak’s on either sides of their bodies. To Garak’s ear, so there was no escaping the words, he said again: “Don’t take this away from me, Elim. I told you I loved you, and you didn’t ask me to _stop_. So, promise me. Promise me this means something to you.”

Julian felt it, knew it, saw it: Garak held the reply on his tongue: _It means nothing._

So before Garak could speak, Julian interrupted.

“This is ours for one night.” Julian heard the heartbreak in his voice and he knew Garak did too. “We might never get another chance. This finishes and our game ends. But I don’t want to have said what I’ve said without hearing you say it too. Please. Even if you don’t mean it. I might never hear anyone else say it.”

Still Garak was silent.

Julian realised he might’ve gotten something very wrong.

“Oh...” Julian felt like he might cry. “You don’t... care. It’s not about love at all, is it?” He exhaled, energy retreating. “You just wanted to have sex.”

Only then did Garak break – he clutched at Julian and held him close and shook his head fiercely, whispering, “No. _No_. No, don’t believe that. Don’t. My dear, don’t— Forgive me. Forgive me, I couldn’t—”

Julian relaxed into him, ceasing to move as he was held and stroked and kissed.

“I feel,” Garak breathed, caressing Julian’s hair, kissing behind his ear, “ _everything_. Fear. Pride. Shame. Guilt. Greed, lust, _hunger_ , jealousy. You are— Y—” He shuddered. “I want you to be mine.”

“Love? Is that what you feel?”

“I feel alive when you’re with me,” Garak said. “Alive in ways I’ve never felt before.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“I don’t want you to go.” Garak spoke softly. He made sure Julian kept moving in him, still building to a slow climax. “I don’t ever wish to be without you.”

Julian felt his heart soar, then sink. “I can stay with you tonight...”

_But tomorrow?_

The question hung in the air unsaid, as it was too big a question.

_What about the years to come?_

Julian pushed once more, and Garak climaxed, his cloaca contracting and spasming so softly that Julian realised he might’ve come a half-dozen times already and Julian hadn’t noticed. But it was clear what this was: his erection gave a reaction this time as a well. Garak spilled hot seed onto his own belly as he whispered Julian’s name, body arching, holding tight, then freeing itself of tension.

He collapsed to the bed in a way certainly more performative than it needed to be. He was merely giving Julian permission to finish.

So Julian renewed his efforts, holding himself to Garak, rocking into him, nudging him into the mattress. Garak let out a few encouraging noises, but the best ones were the involuntary ones – and Julian could tell because they weren’t pretty noises, they were grunts and broken sounds and half-yelps. Garak came again within a minute, to both their shock – and this time without the theatrics. He clutched Julian’s hair and squeaked, vibrating violently once, twice, then spasmed into relaxation again.

And, the moment Garak’s climax was done, Julian came deep inside him, moaning long and low, smiling all the while.

“Oh,” Garak breathed, eyes wide.

“Ah—” Julian, blurry-headed, realised what he’d just done. Garak’s sex organ had started trying to revert, while Julian was still buried inside the channel in which it usually lived, and there wasn’t room for two phalluses in that tiny space. Julian had a decent understanding of Cardassian physiology so he was pretty sure males weren’t meant to have semen inside their cloacas. “Oh _no_ , should I have pulled out?”

Garak’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “Yes. But no matter. There’s enough cold water that I might be able to wash it out before daybreak.”

Julian sagged. “I’m really screwing this up, aren’t I.”

Garak hum-hum-hummed a laugh, bringing Julian in for a nice kiss. “You’re a very considerate lover, my dear. Merely lacking experience.”

“Lacking experience! Lacking ex—”

Julian sighed, shaking his head fondly. He rolled his eyes and carefully pulled out, giving Garak another reason to moan. Suddenly Garak flinched and shoved Julian aside, their hands separating. Julian only realised when Garak shifted himself out from under him that Garak’s hand had gone to prevent himself from reverting, keeping his cloaca open.

Julian watched in embarrassment as Garak got out from the bed, wrapped himself in his own wet towel, and walked awkwardly to the bathroom, still holding himself open.

Julian lay on his back and sighed at the ceiling. There was still a moth up there, bumping around on the dome.

Eventually Julian got up and dressed himself and went to the house’s kitchen in bare feet. There were no lights, but the woodburning stove was still lit, howling orange, casting eerie shadows of limp uniform arms across the tiles.

Julian washed his hands in soapy standing water in the sink’s ceramic washing-up bowl – not an ideal wash, but it would do.

He poured out the bowl and refilled it with fresh tap water, then put the bowl on the metal top of the woodburner.

He waited five minutes, then took it carefully – very carefully – back to the bedroom.

“Garak,” he said, outside the washroom.

“Hm?” came the voice from inside.

“Hot water.”

Garak chuckled. “I didn’t even have to ask.”

“What’s a life partner for if I can’t anticipate at least _some_ of your needs,” Julian uttered. “I’m coming in. I won’t look.”

He elbowed open the door and left the bowl by the side of the sink. But he startled when he realised Garak was just sitting on the side of the bath, as if waiting for him.

Julian realised he’d looked, and hurriedly shielded his eyes.

Garak stood up and stepped close to him.

Julian glanced past his hand shield, then lowered it.

“Perhaps I didn’t say thank you,” Garak said, eyes kind, smile warm, “for making love to me. And for... considering my needs.”

Julian blushed. “I just— Well, I... I love you, so.” He cleared his throat and cringed at himself. There was no use in saying it anymore, was there? It was like confessing feelings to a brick wall.

But Garak snatched Julian’s hand and prevented him from leaving the washroom.

Julian waited.

Garak took a breath and said, “I feel something for you I’ve never felt for anyone, and truly hope I never will again. I have rejected this – this emotion, with every scrap of logic and training and instinct that I possess. Yet it persists.”

“It’s love,” Julian told him, firmly, refusing to look Garak in the eye. “I’m telling you, Elim, it’s love.”

“No, my dear. It’s trust,” Garak said. “And as far as I’m concerned that’s far more dangerous.”

Julian looked at him, ready to fight. But Garak gazed at him with... trust, yes.

 _And_ love.

“Thank you, Julian,” Garak said. “For being gentle with me.”

Julian wanted to cry again, for a myriad of reasons, all different from any other time tonight.

Gladness. Longing.

Loss.

“Anytime, Elim,” he said.

And he meant it.

He turned away and shut the door behind him, and the game of the night ended.

  
  
★  
  


Garak drew in a deep, deep breath, keeping his eyes shut on purpose. He dared not open them and look upon a world where this dream wasn’t real, where the phantom scent that fogged his senses would evaporate like steam off a cooling red leaf tea.

For now, this _was_ real, was it not?

Real enough.

His lover lay in his arms. Warm. Safe. The world was quiet as the dawn touched this part of Bajor IV. Reflected orange gleamed off the clay wall beside the bed, tinting the inside of Garak’s eyelids. There was the faintest discernible shadow beside him: Julian’s head of hair, all ruffled and curled against Garak’s cheek.

He smelled so unlike the man who sat across from Garak in the Replimat a few times a week for lunch or tea. No, this was Julian Bashir without pomade in his hair, without products smeared or sprayed on himself to keep him from sweating, or to make him smell fresh. He finally smelled like a person, a Human person, all soft and vulnerable and blanket-wrapped.

Garak breathed in again, smiling. He hummed his contentment and snuggled closer, nuzzling his nose ridges against Julian’s forehead.

One hand cradled Julian’s slim shoulder, stroking the bare crook, listening to the hiss of skin on tiny scales, warming the part of him that had been exposed to the cool air for a while.

And still Garak didn’t look. He wanted to stay in this dream, the fantasy; if Julian woke and asked what he was doing, Garak could claim he was still asleep and not in his right mind.

He just wanted to _hold_ this dear, dear man, and never let him go.

Julian wiggled a little closer, then relaxed again.

Garak’s eyeridges rose. Was Julian awake?

Unsure now, he began to carefully release Julian, inhaling again, pretending to wake up.

But Julian gave a small noise of disappointment, and said, thick-voiced, “Five more minutes?”

Garak finally blinked his eyes open, focusing on Julian. He had his eyes closed too.

Five minutes.

Garak smiled and took Julian around the waist, making Julian laugh softly. A kiss to Julian’s shoulder made Julian purr, and a kiss to his neck made him hum.

Julian’s lithe fingers found their way to Garak’s hair, and combed their way through, eliciting pleasure in trails as they traced his scalp.

“Kiss me?” Julian asked.

Garak kissed his neck. Julian sighed in gladness and stretched out into the pillow, moaning creakily as Garak began to adorn his throat with affections.

“Darling,” Julian breathed. “Eliiimmm...”

“Julian,” Garak replied, also in a whisper. Kisses trailed to Julian’s cheek, then lips brushed his ear. “Oh, my _love_ , I don’t want this to _end_.”

“Neither do I,” Julian said, emotion tensing his voice. “I want—”

He finally opened his eyes, and they were glossy with tears. The pale pink daylight put a star in each green iris.

“I want to wake up with you,” Julian said. “And...” He took Garak’s cheek and brought him close to kiss. Garak let him lick his lips but wouldn’t open his mouth, unwilling to sour the contact with a dry tongue. “Kiss you. Live with you. _Do_ things with you. Go on adventures with you, and get bored with you, and make you _laugh_ and make you angry and figure out how to make it up to you when I screw up, because I’m _going_ to screw up, aren’t I, because I’m me, but I’m also— I don’t mind if you make a mistake and hurt me. I know what you meant, now. I wouldn’t mind. Because I want you to make it better, Garak. I want to learn with you. And grow with you.” He kissed Garak again. “I want us together.”

Garak lifted himself just enough that he could peer down at his lover, considering him from a breath away. “I must be a terrible teacher,” he said.

Julian’s eyebrows rose. “I’m sorry?”

“I’ve failed my only student.”

Julian chuckled and scrunched up Garak’s hair, still gazing up at him, dewy-eyed. “Oh, because I’ve gone and felt feelings for you, despite your halfhearted efforts to push me away, is that it? Because if that’s the case, I think it’s more that I can’t resist once someone presents me with a decent challenge.”

“I couldn’t even set a good example for you,” Garak admitted with some irritation, glaring at the pillow under Julian’s head. “I’ve told you time and time again that sentiment is the greatest weakness and yet I’ve... fallen in...” His breath caught, then released. “In love.”

He swallowed, shutting his eyes.

“Garak,” Julian said. Teasing.

Garak looked at him, curious about the tone.

Julian beamed at him. “I’ll be gentle. With every aspect of you. I promise.” He stroked a thumb back and forth along Garak’s aural ridges. “I know – it’s _awful_ for you to be this open with anyone, but if you’re _going_ to trust someone...” He kissed the tip of Garak’s nose, still smiling. “I’ll be gentle.”

Garak sighed, sinking a little. “I trust that you will, my dear.”

“Sooo...” Julian shrugged a shoulder hopefully. “Can we?” His eyes darted back and forth between Garak’s. “Be a couple. For longer than five minutes.”

Garak pressed his lips together in defeat, and sighed. “Fine.”

Julian grinned and dragged Garak to lie back down, and then cuddled up to him, tucking his nose under Garak’s jaw.

Garak started to smile, and doubted he’d be able to stop.

“Elim?”

“Hm!”

“Can I ask you something? Do we leave the ‘life partnership’ thing unsaid, or are we saying it?”

“Well, I think you’ve rather _said_ it, now, haven’t you.”

“So that’s a yes.”

Garak mumbled, “I’m sure I should argue, but I’m really not in the mood. Come here, if you please.” He rolled to face Julian and hummed as he kissed him deeply, pressing him down into the bed with one insistent bare thigh and a rolling kiss.

Julian laughed into the kiss, then flung his long arms around the back of Garak’s neck and deepened the contact, heads tilted, mouths open wide, eyes shut and crinkled with joy.

Perhaps it wasn’t the sweetest-tasting kiss, but in nature it was sweeter than any before, which made up for a lot.

  
  
★  
  


Julian _bounced_ into the stove-hot kitchen wearing a crochet top and black uniform trousers. “Hello, everyone!” He pranced over to Dax, who was hunched messy-haired over a cup of coffee, and he hugged her around her neck, cheek smushed to the top of her head. “ _Good_ morning, Jadzia.”

He left her alone and went up to Sisko by the sink, but Sisko raised a hand before Julian dared get those outstretched arms anywhere near him.

“Well, good morning to you too, Commander,” Julian said. “How are you all? Having fun? Ready for the day? Ready to shift some rubble and then get on the runabout and – whoo! – fly up north and talk to the council? Yes? Yes? No? Surely yes.”

Dax stared past her coffee at the far wall. “Glad to see _you_ had a good night.”

“Oh, it was splendid, actually.” Julian shot Sisko a sheepish look. “I think you might’ve... um,” he cleared his throat, “ _heard_... the news.”

Dax smiled, and it reached her eyes.

Sisko chewed his lumpy porridge while leaning on the sink ledge and pretending not to know what Julian was talking about.

Garak entered the kitchen, dressed in one of his usual Cardassian tunics.

“Oh, there he is!” Julian ran to Garak and snatched up a hand, fingers immediately interlocked. “The man of the hour! Or the night. Mwah!” Julian put a loud kiss on Garak’s cheek, beaming when Garak stared at him in surprise. “Lovely morning, isn’t it, Elim?”

Garak blinked a few times. “How many coffees did you manage to drink in the five minutes I was in the washroom?”

Julian threw his head back laughing. “I’m just happy to be here, that’s all.” He stood before Garak and hung his arms around his neck, smiling when Garak held his waist. “Do you want me to make you breakfast? I haven’t eaten a _thing_ yet.”

Dax mumbled from the table, “Oh, really? Could’ve sworn you got a mouthful of _Garak_ last night.”

Sisko choked on his porridge. Julian glanced at him to check he was okay, only to see him laughing in silence, a fist over his mouth.

Garak’s cheeks had turned an attractive shade of pinky-purple.

Julian gave Garak a kiss on the nose and an assuring smile, then slipped away from him to tell the others, “Small house, isn’t it. I suppose even _these_ walls aren’t too thick. But if it’s any consolation, I _was_ praying you wouldn’t come barging in and see me and Garak shagging. I would’ve told you eventually. Just not like that.”

Sisko wheezed, still clutching his mouth, but fought to compose himself. He finally swallowed his food and looked Julian in the eyes with a professional air of dispassion.

Julian gave him a knowing smirk. “I think I recall you telling me not to let Garak ‘keep me up’.”

“I did. Luckily for you, Doctor, it was not a direct order. But please, in future—”

“We’ll stick to talking, sir,” Julian promised.

Garak harrumphed – and Julian couldn’t tell if it was a noise of disbelief or disgruntlement.

Of course Garak was right. They could talk all night, any night, but no doubt there’d be no keeping their hands off each other now they knew how good it was to touch. And even then, what about other nights? They might just lie together wanting to enjoy each other’s warmth and company. They might read. They might fight. They might sleep outside, or beside a porthole and watch the stars.

Other nights...?

 _All_ nights.

Julian was furiously glad his hopes for the relationship’s longevity hadn’t gone unmentioned. Now he _knew_ there was a lifetime of nights and days ahead of them, so he couldn’t promise Sisko a damn thing. There was no telling what Elim Garak and Julian Bashir, now a couple, might get up to in all that time. Talking was what they loved best – teasing, redirecting, explaining – but it would not be everything.

Julian ended up smirking again, then grinning at Sisko.

“We _will_ stick to talking, sir,” he repeated. Then he added: “...Sometimes.”

**{ the end }**

**Author's Note:**

> I used “darling” in this fic because it is, and always will be, one of my favourite terms of endearment. But I also wish to point out that [Sid called me “darling”](https://youtu.be/uo8Y3YfPIU8?t=1612) two-and-a-half months ago and I’M STILL NOT OVER IT. NOT EVEN A LITTLE.
> 
> [Many more of my Garashir fics can be found here!](https://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&commit=Sort+and+Filter&work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=revised_at&include_work_search%5Bfandom_ids%5D%5B%5D=8474&work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bexcluded_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bcrossover%5D=&work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_from%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_to%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_from%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_to%5D=&work_search%5Bquery%5D=&work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&user_id=almaasi) And there will be more coming soon, so [subscribe if you want more of this sort of thing~](https://archiveofourown.org/users/almaasi/pseuds/almaasi)
> 
> Wishing you goodness, dear space friends. Lots of it.
> 
> Elmie x
> 
> P.S. [I have a functional twitter account now!](https://twitter.com/almaasi)
> 
> ☆ [Fic/art link on twitter!!](https://twitter.com/almaasi/status/1327076676296081408)  
> ☆ [And on tumblr~](https://almaasi.tumblr.com/post/634634507053645824/new-13k-garashir-fic-ours-for-one-night)


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